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harrysweasleys · 4 years

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a place for us // d.m

Summary: I’d like to request a Draco x reader please, she’s the plus one to the golden trio & Malfoy actually has a crush on her since 1st year but never tells her even though she comes from a pureblood family too. In the 6th year she’s the first one who noticed how drastically Malfoy has changed and decided to investigate & that’s how she founds him in the room of requirements and they just bonded, Draco really opens up to her and they meet in secret every night plus a kiss in the end maybe? Thank you

Warnings: none

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: dudes i’m so close to 600 followers i love you all. thank you so much for sticking by my work. also so very sorry it’s taking me ages to get around to these requests. writer’s block, ya know? but, enjoy!!!! xoxo

— —

As you watched Draco pick absentmindedly at his quill during Potions, you knew something was wrong. He had been acting off all year. Maybe he wasn’t a fan of Potions now that Slughorn was the Professor, but this didn’t excuse why he had been sulking the entire first month that school had returned.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice caught you out of your trance, causing you to snap your head in his direction with a startled expression. You suddenly became dizzy, needing to blink rapidly to regain control of your head.

“Yeah?” you asked, pretending like you hadn’t just dozed off while staring at Draco for nearly five whole minutes.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “We’re partners for — you weren’t paying attention, were you?” The clear disappointment on his face made you feel awful, but you couldn’t help it. You were intrigued by Draco’s lack of boasting. For five years now, you had spent classes with him where he had spent the entire time bragging about his status and wealth, and now he was just silently sitting at the back of the class, head in his hands and his mind clearly distracted

“I was too,” you snapped back, furrowing your eyebrows and turning to face Ron and Hermione, who were also paired together and beginning to jot down instructions.

“Then,” Harry leaned his elbows on the table and stared you down, “what potion are we making?”

You squinted, trying to think of what you had picked up from the short time you payed attention to Slughorn, “Draught of Living Death?”

Harry groaned, “Lucky guess.”

You grinned, proud of your shot in the dark, and stood up to collect the ingredients, bringing your copy of Advanced Potion Making with you to search the stocked shelves.

As you turned around to go back to your desk, arms filled with ingredients, you nearly crashed into a body.

“Oh, I am so sorry—” you grimaced, wanting to smack yourself over the forehead for being so clumsy. Luckily, you hadn’t dropped any ingredients, but you felt like a fool nonetheless.

Draco smiled softly down at you, “My fault. Didn’t notice your arms were full.” He proceeded to maneuver around you and collect his own ingredients, gently pressing up against your arm as he did so.

You shuddered, choosing not to look back and glance at him before speed walking back to your station, where Harry was preparing the cauldron.

“You alright?” he asked, peering up at you quickly before picking at the ingredients.

You nodded, forcing yourself to continue staring down at the table to avoid looking at the Slytherin boy. Something about him was just incredibly off and despite not really being friends with him, you wanted nothing more than to figure out what was going on in that pale head of his.

When class came to an end, Slughorn deeming yours and Harry’s potion the best one in the class (Hermione scowled at Ron), you waited behind to walk with your friends, who were approaching you slowly after cleaning up their desk.

“Naturally, Ronald,” Hermione scoffed, discreetly rolling her eyes, causing you to chuckle.

“What? I’m just saying!” he argued back, holding his hands up in fake surrender, “If you drank Draught of Living Death as a dead person, you’d return to life! It’s called Living Death. So, of course, Zombie.”

“That’s what was going on in your mind during class?” you couldn’t help the bubbling laughter as the four of you exited the class, turning down the hallway with the crowd, “Charming, really. No wonder Harry and I beat you guys.”

However, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a specific blond head rushing in the opposite direction. It was rather odd, considering your next class — Defence Against the Dark Arts — was also with the Slytherins.

“It’s what’s always going on in my mind, Y/N,” Ron deadpanned, looking over to where you were now staring, “What’re you looking at?

Hermione and Harry had now stopped walking, moving out of the way of the onslaught of students, being careful not to get trampled.

You turned back to face your friends, “I — need to pee, yeah, I need to pee.”

Despite your super unconvincing voice, they nodded at you and Hermione spoke up, “We’ll meet you in Defence class, then.”

“Right, yeah,” you mumbled, waving a quick bye and taking off in the current of students, unfortunately going against the tide as most of them were heading the opposite way.

You cursed yourself for being curious. Dodging students left and right, gripping onto your backpack to avoid having it get knocked off your shoulders, you eventually made your way into the clearing, adjusting your disheveled robes before continuing on.

Looking left and right, you couldn’t find Malfoy anywhere, but you were almost certain he had taken the left corridor. So you did the same. Luckily, you avoided coming in contact with anyone, rushing down and turning the corner.

As you turned, you saw Malfoy’s figure at the end, rounding another corner up ahead. You followed him, keeping your eyes peeled for anything that could give away what he was off to do.

He was by no means a star student, but skipping class wasn’t exactly ‘normal’ for him. In the five years you had known him, you had only noticed him skip class twice and both times were due to Quidditch injuries.

Yes, you had noticed both times he wasn’t there. Not because you wanted him around, but because he usually made his presence very well know, especially around your friends — who he seemed to strongly despise, despite the fact he had never been rude to you.

You continue following him up the stairs and down more empty hallways. You had never seen the school this empty, but that was because you had never decided to take a stroll while you were supposed to be in class.

Finally, after walking for what felt like ten minutes, Draco stopped abruptly and stared at a wall. You ducked, hiding behind a statue, and peered out through the tiny window you had.

He was staring at this blank stone wall, but you knew exactly what it was. You had been there countless times the year before where Harry had held practices for Dumbledore’s Army.

Why Malfoy needed the Room of Requirements was beyond you. He had always managed to get his way with Professor Snape, surely he couldn’t be doing anything proper or good behind those doors.

You watched as he stalked in, careful to double check if anyone was near him before the doors slowly started to vanish.

It was now or never, you thought.

So you bolted.

The doors were barely able to fit you as you squeezed through, the door turning into a wall behind you and disappearing completely. You stayed quiet as you turned around, ready to face a pissed off Malfoy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Room of Requirements was completely different from how you had seen it last year. Instead of a wide open space with mirrors and books on Defensive spells, it looked like a storage room.

Chairs, books, desks, anything and everything you could think of, were piled up to the ceiling in rows. The dust was unbelievable — your throat was already beginning to tickle after your first breath.

Not only could you not see Draco, but you could barely see anything with the amount of junk that was in this room. He had probably taken off down one of the rows, but which one, you had no clue.

You decided to head down the furthest right, passing old desks and books along the way. The smell of dust and decay got stronger along the way. You had to keep your eyes on your feet to avoid tripping on scattered objects.

Once you passed an old bookcase, you heard quiet muttering. Draco’s head came into view, along with what appeared to be a triangular cabinet. His head was leaned up against it, muttering silently, his shoulders shaking and his arms lying limp at his side.

“Malfoy?” you whispered, suddenly becoming very much aware that he probably didn’t want you following him.

He spun around, eyes wide. It was hard to tell since he was naturally so pale, but his complexion seemed even more ghostly than usual.

“What are you doing here?” his expression changed from shocked to anger, his hands clenching into fists by his sides.

You stammered, trying to find a reasoning that wouldn’t make you come off as a stalker, “Are you okay?”

That wasn’t exactly smooth, but his face seemed to soften. He looked you up and down, visually calming when he noticed your wand wasn’t in your hand, nor did you show any signs of accusing him of anything.

“Is Potter hiding around the corner?” he hardened again, standing stiff and placing his right hand inside his coat as if ready to grab his wand and defend himself any second.

“No, no, he’s not,” you raised your hands, “I’m alone. I just... sorry I followed you in here.”

He slowly removed his hand from his jacket, letting it fall limp at his side once again. Despite Draco being one of the most intimidating and feared students in the school, not once had he ever made you feel out of place. You figured it was probably because you were a pureblood, and your family did have a decent status in the magical world. He would torment your friends, calling Harry awful names — even going as far as calling Hermione a mudblood.

You should hate him. Everything about what he had done screamed awful, rude, bully, dangerous, but he had always been kinder to you, softer even. And somehow, deep within your heart, you knew you couldn’t hate him.

It was annoying, really. Every time he and Harry were in the same room, tensions would go through the roof. Draco would spit insults at your friend, but turn to you and greet you or bid you a good day like a normal person.

Ron would often rant about their disastrous encounters with him in the common room after everyone was asleep, and you’d sit quietly and offer no input.

One of the moments you realized Draco was nowhere near as bad as he seemed was during the Triwizard Tournament. When Harry was under water — Hermione and Ron having gone missing as well — the notorious Draco Malfoy had comforted you. Had told you everything would be alright. That your friends would be safe.

Really, there was no way you could hate him after that.

“Why did you follow me?” he asked, eyes darting to the ground to avoid eye contact. You were honestly surprised he wasn’t angrier. He had always had a short fuse around most people.

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to word it, “I was, uh, worried.”

His eyes snapped up to you and he scoffed, “You? Worried about me? Right.”

“I am,” you pressed on, “You’re not okay. I can tell. I just thought I’d try and find out what was wrong so I could... help, I guess.”

It wasn’t a lie, per se. You did want to figure out what was wrong, but you weren’t sure how you could be of any help to him.

“Well, thanks, but I don’t need your help,” his voice had more of an edge now, clearly a sign he was becoming fed up with your presence. Maybe it was a mistake following him.

“How do you know? Maybe it’s something I can relate to. We both have a lot of pressure, being purebloods, you know,” you crossed your arms as you spoke, slightly offended by his tone of voice.

He rolled his eyes, “This has nothing to do with you. You wouldn’t understand. I can handle myself.” Although his face was hard, steady, cold, you could tell that his eyes were pleading. Pleading for someone to care, to set him free.

“I can tell you’re lying,” you approached him slightly, trying your best not to seem as if you were cornering him, “Try me. Maybe I’ll understand.”

If you weren’t close to him, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes were watery, becoming red as he clearly fought back his emotions.

“You think you would understand? You think anyone can possibly understand this?” he raised the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a dark tattoo on his forearm, the symbol immediately recognizable.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you took a step away from him, mind becoming hazy as your eyes were glued to the Dark Mark etched into his pale skin.

“You — you have the mark,” you breathed out slowly. You couldn’t fathom why he’d have it. You knew his parents were Death Eaters — hell, everyone knew that — but why Draco? What could he do while he was still at Hogwarts?

“Yeah, thanks, almost didn’t realize,” he spoke through gritted teeth, rolling his sleeve back down and finally letting his emotions free. A tear slid down his cheek as he faced away from you, frustrated at himself for being so vulnerable around another person.

You were still frozen in your spot. You thought he had maybe been dealing with depression, anxiety, pressure, fear — but never this. You never in a million years thought that he was dealing with the Dark Mark.

“I’m so sorry,” you found yourself saying the only thing you could think of. It was true, you were sorry for him, but there was nothing that could be done. Once the Mark was on, was there even a way of removing it? It was unheard of, really. Once you pledged your undying fidelity to You Know Who, it was that or death from then on. Thinking of that, you couldn’t blame him for being quiet and distant all term.

You found yourself approaching him even more, feeling thankful he didn’t pull away, and did the only thing you could think of in the moment.

You hugged him.

Your arms wrapped around his waist slowly, noticing immediately how he tensed under your touch. When your arms were fully wrapped around him, you rested your head against his chest, hearing the violent thud of his heartbeat.

“What are you doing?” he asked tensely, his body completely rigid at the strange showing of affection.

“Hugging you,” you replied, voice slightly muffled by his clothing, “You can hug back, y’know.”

He hesitantly raised his arms and draped them around you, not fully hugging you just yet. But as his mind caught up with him, he pulled you even closer to his body, as if all of a sudden, you were the one thing grounding him to reality.

“Do you not like it? I can stop,” you chuckled humourlessly, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your rash movement. If anyone saw you hugging Draco Malfoy, your friends would shun you for life.

He shook his head, “No, no, it’s not that. I’ve just — I don’t get these often.”

Your heart broke for him, “Well, I can give them to you.”

You replaced your arms around him even tighter and he relaxed at your touch, letting his head rest atop of yours. For such a strange encounter moments before, this seemed an oddly intimate way to end up.

“Thank you,” he whispered, arms still wrapped tightly around you. You had to do a double take. You were nearly certain you had never heard him apologize before. Was this what it felt like to be accomplished?

“Don’t thank me,” you muttered, slowly pulling away from him and tugging at the hair that got caught in his buttons, “I just always find hugs make me feel better. Thought I’d give it a shot. And I know I can’t even begin to understand what you’re going through, but I am here. If ever you need anyone. Talking, listening, I’m good at it all.”

He forced a smile, cheeks more flushed with colour, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Even though you had just found out he was now a Death Eater, you didn’t fear him. You didn’t feel like you should be running in the opposite direction and warning Harry and Dumbledore. You didn’t feel like he should be kicked out, expelled or killed. In that moment, he was vulnerable, scared, human. You just wanted to help.

“I should probably head to class before Harry thinks I’ve been attacked,” you tried adding humour, but it didn’t seem to work.

Draco’s frown deepened, “I’m not going to attack you.”

“I know,” you reassured him calmly, regretting your joke, “I just don’t want Harry and Ron and Hermione to come searching. We’ll keep this a secret, yeah?”

He gazed up at you, a light smile on his lips, “Don’t exactly want the world knowing, so yeah. Thank you.”

You nodded curtly, unsure as to how to continue the conversation, “Well, I’ll see you around. Take care of yourself. Please.” You shot him a genuine smile and he returned the gesture, eyes locked on you as you disappeared from sight and out the door.

As you left the room, you let out a deep breath, leaning against the wall and processing what had just happened. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. A Death Eater. He wasn’t even old enough to do magic outside of school. Did that mean he had to do his Dark Arts in the school?

You shook your head, not wanting to dwell too much. The more you overthrought the situation, the more you’d be tempted to warn Harry. But you highly doubted Draco’s purpose was to harm Harry when You Know Who wanted to do that himself.

Beginning your speed-walk to class, you really did try to clear your mind. You thought about Quidditch, about your upcoming Transfigurations essay, and even about what topic you guys could be discussing in class, but it seemed nearly impossible considering what had just happened.

You had been so distracted by your own thoughts you hadn’t even noticed you were right in front of the class. You opened the door with a grimace, knowing Snape was bound to be aggravated as hell that you were late.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he scowled, turning all of the attention of the class on you, “Mind explaining why you’re nearly half an hour late to my class?”

Half an hour? Had you really been gone that long.

“Sorry, Professor, wasn’t feeling well,” you lied, raising your hand and placing it on your stomach, “Was thinking of going to the hospital wing but didn’t want to miss the class.”

Snape scoffed, hardly believing your lie, “Thirty points from Gryffindor. Now sit down.”

You nodded, sliding into your usual seat next to Ron, who glanced over at you with a quizzing expression, “Where’d you really run off to?”

Luckily Snape was too busy scolding Neville Longbottom because Ron was not exactly a pro whisperer.

“Just... I wasn’t doing anything. Thought I was onto something but I wasn’t. Just forget about it,” you brushed him off, turning to face the black board and taking down notes, ignoring the confused stare Ron kept sending your way.

You had promised Draco you wouldn’t tell anyone. And besides, he showed no signs of doing anything dangerous just yet. Maybe this made you an accomplice, but you wanted to gauge the severity of the situation before you ran off tattletaling to Dumbledore.

Draco may have new found power, but was he actually going to put it to the test?

You wanted to find out why Draco.

——

For days now, you had actually been meeting up with the Slytherin in secret. Whether it be the Room or Requirements or even the Astronomy Tower during warm evenings, you became someone he felt comfortable around.

And surprisingly, you had become comfortable around him too. If your friends found out, they’d kill you dead, but you were becoming better and better at coming up with lies and excuses as to why you always got back late and where you kept going off too.

You’re pretty sure Harry is suspicious of you, but he’s never shown signs of not trusting you, so that was a good thing. Hermione and Ron were too focused on ignoring each other to pay attention to what you were up to — honestly, a part of you was thankful for it.

The Astronomy Tower was dark as nightfall fell upon it once again, the twinkling stars and bright moon being the only source of light. It was peaceful, really. The only place you could really go to get away from the chaotic environment of the school during the day.

And, yes, it did make it slightly more enjoyable that Draco would accompany you here.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked, the usual question you’d greet him with.

He shrugged, “Same as usual.”

You nodded, looking out over the dark lake, “Remember, I’m always here if you wanna vent.”

He smiled slightly, stepping closer to you and leaning against the railing, “I haven’t forgotten.”

The air surrounding you was tense, yet strangely peaceful. As if you and Draco had slipped into a common ground. Unsure how to address the issues at hand, but very much aware that you were going to be there for him.

“What did you tell your friends you were doing today?” he smirked, knowing how you had started to lie for him.

Rolling your eyes, you turned away from him, “Told them I was going to the Owlery to write to my mum. Don’t know how they believed it.”

“Because they’re idiots,” he scoffed, causing you to turn around and face him with a stern glare.

“Hey, you can’t keep talking about them like that. They’re my best friends,” you defended, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. You cocked an eyebrow as he opened his mouth again, warning him not to call them any other names.

He raised his hands, “Fine. Apologies.”

You uncrossed your arms and rested them on the railing, looking back out over the starlit sky and shadows of mountains. The view from up here was gorgeous. You had the view of the entire castle, as well as the view of the scenery surrounding it.

No matter how many times you looked over Hogwarts, the view never got old.

“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” you asked, looking down to the courtyard, illuminated dimly under the moon.

“Yeah, it is,” Draco said softly. You looked over and noticed his eyes were still on you. Both of your cheeks went pink, turning away immediately and choosing to look at other things.

“I’m scared,” he said softly, pulling you attention back to him, “I think — I know — that the Dark Lord wants me to do something. Something bad; something dangerous. And I — I don’t want to do it.”

You felt your heart sink at the broken expression on his face. You knew that he hated himself for what he had become, he had told you numerous times. But it didn’t change the fact that you really did feel bad for him.

“What is it he wants you to do?” you asked, moving closer to him without even realizing it.

He shook his head, eyes wide, “I — I can’t tell you. It’ll put you in danger.”

Based on the paleness of his face, you knew you shouldn’t push it. After all, being the only one at school who knew he was a Death Eater was already putting you at enough risk. It didn’t help, either, that you were slowly, but surely, falling for the boy in front of you.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you smiled, placing your hand softly over his. You hadn’t realized he was shaking so much, but he relaxed under your touch and let out a deep breath.

“I just—” he sighed, closing his eyes, “—I just don’t want to do it.”

“I don’t blame you,” you moved even closer, placing your other hand on his cold cheek, “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I wish there was a way I could help.”

He opened his eyes, smiling softly down at you and placing his hand over yours, which was rubbing his cheek lightly, “I wish you could help too. But the last thing I want to do it place you in harm’s way.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks due to the way he was gazing down at you. He seemed to be staring into your soul and it was the most intimate moment you had ever felt.

“I appreciate that,” you whispered, realizing in that moment how close you were, “But I don’t want you in harm’s way either.”

He chuckled dryly, “Kind of late for that. I was practically born in harm’s way.”

Quite suddenly, he pulled away from you, and you only then noticed how warm he was when his distance caused cold air to surround your body. You found yourself missing the closeness, but figured his distance was probably for the best. You could barely fathom telling your friends you were talking to Malfoy — you couldn’t imagine what they’d say if anything were to actually happen.

“I know, I wish you had a choice,” you spoke up, louder this time as he kept his back turned to you, “It’s not fair.”

He shook his head, letting it drop, “It’s not. But —,” his voice trailed off before he turned and faced you, his face set and all softness gone, “I should probably go to bed.”

Your eyes involuntarily widened and you couldn’t help the clear shock on your face, “Wait, did I say something?”

“No,” he replied rather quickly, “I just need to go.” And without saying another word, abruptly rushed down the stairs, his blond head disappearing from view before you could even say another word.

You stayed there, silently in the dark, for another long while. You couldn’t understand why he had taken off so hastily. Was he scared of you? For you? For himself? Did he have a realization? What was it that had rushed him away?

You walked back to the Gryffindor common room with a sulky mood, mind whirling as to what it was that could have caused a drastic, sudden change in his mood. Draco had always been a tough book to read, often leading to him being irrational, but something told you this was more than just his normal actions. You couldn’t exactly blame him for being paranoid — he was dealing with You Know Who — but you couldn’t help wanting to know more.

The common room was quiet as you re entered. Thankfully, you wouldn’t have to deal with your friends’ questions tonight. They could wait for the morning when your head was a little clearer and you could think of better answers.

You stalked up the stairs and into the room, glad that Hermione was snoring away so it was loud enough to cover the sounds of you sliding under your sheets and putting out the lantern next to your bed.

Safe to say, it was hard to sleep that night, your head far away and your body tossing and turning non stop.

You had never been more physically and mentally exhausted as you were the next morning.

——

Somehow, you had managed to go four days without seeing Malfoy. He hadn’t shown up to class, nor to any of the meals in the Great Hall. You were worried, there was no beating around the bush about that. But you still couldn’t express your worries to your friends or they’d think you were insane.

On the fifth day, the dark heavy rain poured down and the dark clouds in the ceiling of the Great Hall during breakfast did nothing to lighten your mood.

You had barely slept these last few night, Draco being the only thing you could think of. Both worried for his safety, and worried for the safety of others, you kept an eye out everywhere you walked to see if you could spot his familiar face.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

To your great distaste, seeing Harry and Ginny finally realize their feelings for each other in the span of these last five days had made your longing for Draco even worse. Yes, your stupid heart had decided to grow feelings for him. And yes, it ticked you off knowing you’d never be able to act on said feelings.

So, seeing Ginny linking her hand with Harry’s as she joined your table for breakfast made your blood boil.

“Morning,” she grinned, pressing a light kiss to Harry’s cheek, Ron grimacing at the affection.

“Bloody hell, can you not do that around me?” he groaned, looking down at his plate with disgust as if seeing the gesture caused him to loose his appetite.

“It’s sweet,” Hermione beamed, closing her book and placing it between you two on the bench, “I think it’s nice.”

Harry and Ginny grinned at her compliment, but it went unnoticed by you as your eyes scanned the Slytherin table once more. Draco’s head usually stuck out like a sore thumb, so you’d see him if he was there.

“Ron, you’re ready for Quidditch practice, yeah?” Harry nodded towards Ron, finishing off his pumpkin juice and standing up, “Let’s get going.”

“It’s raining, mate,” Ron groaned, about to stuff the last bit of toast in his mouth.

Harry shrugged, “Thanks for pointing out the weather, let’s go.”

Hermione giggled as Ron begrudgingly stood up and followed Harry out of the Great Hall. As you watched them leave, your eyes following them to the door, your heart leapt out of your chest.

Draco was standing in the doorway, looking like right hell. His face was ghostly, his eyes sunken in and dark and his hair matted to his head.

You stood up, nearly knocking Hermione over with the force of your movement. But as you looked over at him, Hermione seemed to vanish from your view.

“Gotta go,” you said to the two girls, striding towards the entrance. Draco must have seen you, because he took off in the opposite direction, his pace picking up once he noticed you following him.

“Oi, Draco, slow your roll,” you shouted, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. You hadn’t expected him to actually stop, causing you to crash into his back and nearly stumble over.

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled, regaining your balance and hiding the flush on your cheeks. He didn’t move, so you turned around to face him, holding back a gasp when you noticed the state he was in.

“Draco, what happened?” your voice was soft, reassuring. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel like you were judging him.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, looking down to his feet, “I’m fine.”

Scoffing, you raised a hand to his cheek and placed it against his skin lightly, “You can open up to me, remember?”

He leaned into your touch, eyes closing, “I’m sorry. I just — I needed to stay away.” He shuddered as he spoke. You could tell he was trying to be as open and honest as he could without giving too much away.

“From me?” you asked, stepping closer to him and pulling him behind a pillar so you couldn’t be seen by passing students.

He nodded, “I don’t want to put you in danger if I can help it. I’m — I like your company.”

“I like your company too,” you smiled softly, “Which is why it sucked when I couldn’t find you.”

“No, like — never mind,” he waved his hands, brushing you off, “It’s pathetic.”

“Wait, no, you need to be open with me,” you pointed a finger at him, a grin forming on your lips at the redness growing on his cheeks, “What is it?”

He fidgeted in his spot, avoiding your gaze before speaking so softly you almost missed it, “I actually like you. Like, like you. Since first year, actually. And I opened up to you. And then I realized I was putting you, the one person I care about, in danger.”

You stared at him, mouth agape and face drained of colour. Had he just said he likes you? Draco Malfoy likes you? You had always had a soft spot for him — even though you shouldn’t have had one — but you never imagined he felt the same to this extent. It slowly started to make sense; why he was always kinder to you, why he felt the need to open up to you, why he wanted to distance himself after doing so.

The redness on his cheeks grew, and you could feel the heat flooding into your own. For some reason, just the knowledge of his crush had your heart fluttering away because you couldn’t deny — you had one too.

“Well, that’s good to know,” you stepped closer, “I like you too.”

His head shot up, eyes nearly bulging out of his head, “You — you do?”

“Yes,” you said, more seriously this time, “And now that my little secret is out there, you need to start taking care of yourself. I know this is scary and you don’t know what’s going on, but take care of yourself. Please. For me.”

He seemed to ponder on your words, moving closer to you, “Promise. I will.”

Almost as if your presence had done something to him, the colour seemed to have flooded back into his face and his eyes seemed to spark life once more. You grinned, pleased at your affect on him, and wrapped your arms around him.

He leaned into the hug this time, less awkward and unsure. His head nestled into your neck and his hands gripped your waist firmly, the affectionate gesture being a source of comfort to both of you.

You pulled away after a long moment, grinning like an idiot and trying your best to hide it, “I’m really proud of you for opening up, y’know? It can’t be easy and I—,”

Your rambling was cut off by his lips forcefully pressing up against yours. You were too caught off guard to kiss back, standing there stiff as a board with your mind racing to catch up to his actions. He noticed your stiffness, causing him to immediately pull away and stare at you with panic in his eyes.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he ran his hand down his face, pale as ever and the panic in his eyes growing more by the second, “Forgive me, it was heat of the moment.”

“Stop rambling,” your mind finally caught up with you to the point where you could process what just happened, “Kiss me again.”

He placed his hands softly on either sides of your head and pressed his lips softly against yours. Tingles shot through your entire body at his touch, your heart being sent into overdrive as fireworks erupted in your belly.

His kiss was soft but passionate and needy. You could tell he was desperate to cling to you as much as he could, his body pressed up against yours and holding you flush to him. His body was relaxed — this was probably the least stressed he had ever been around you.

Your hands went into his hair, his delicate kiss still sending your mind into a frenzy, even after he had pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“That was — that was —” Draco’s breathing was a little off as he chuckled, eyes staring into yours with a whole new level of adoration.

“Yeah,” you grinned, pulling your forehead away from his to look at him properly. His eyes were wide and he couldn’t fight his smile.

From that moment on, you didn’t leave his side. You met in the Astronomy Tower nearly every single night — it was a place just for the two of you. He confided in you about his feelings, his fears, worries, dreams. Anything that was going on in his mind, he told you about it.

And he loved you.

He felt like the didn’t deserve your kindness, your open heart, but he welcomed it and accepted every moment, feeling the least alone he had ever felt before.

You, on the other hand, managed to keep your time with Draco a secret from your friends for a long time. They had become suspicious, yes, but you managed to throw them off your scent and make up a storyline of what exactly was going on.

And you knew bigger things were to come. Wars, fights, probably even death. But you were going to keep your promise and stick by his side until the very end.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy one shots #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy reader insert

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lilith-lovett · 5 years

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Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Sixteen

We have arrived in Act 2 and Logan is now officially Patton’s son but how long will that happiness last, prepare yourself for more angst and heartbreak to come but don’t worry there will be plenty of fluff in there for you also. Thank you for you support and kind comments.

Masterlist

Summary: The time has arrived for Logan to leave

Word Count: 7972 (prepare yourself for some longer chapters)

Warnings: Past child abuse, bullying, hospital mention, self-deprecation, panic attack, non-verbal, swearing, reference to injuries, bruises, implied depression, disordered eating, death mention. (If there is anything I was missed please let me know).

Logan was waiting at the window. He had hardly slept that night, recalling Patton’s promise to him, for him to return the following day to take him home. Home. He had never had a home before. His parents house was more comparable to a museum then a family home, filled with precious artefacts which he would be severely punished if he touched. Even his room was bare apart from the simple bed and desk though he spent more nights locked in the nightmarish closest, clawing at the walls and gasping for air. That was not a home. The Orphanage was not a home to Logan either, with the shared living space he was segregated within, he had no space of his own, the others had no care for his personal privacy or his possessions, they were violated and destroyed. That was not a home.

What would Patton’s house be like? Logan thought as he gazed wistfully out of the window and onto the street. He imagined it would be large, given the size of his family, but simultaneously cosy with decorative pillows and soft blankets draped across the sizeable couch. Toys and games scattered in organised chaos around the living area, Roman’s artwork framed and mounted on the wall, along side the family portraits - mostly of his children of course - each wall painted a different blindingly bright colour. A wide expense of kitchen, perfect for the preparation of a multitude of incredible dishes, producing an wonderful odour which would flow through the entire house, reaching every room and seeping through the walls becoming apart of the foundation. That was a home.

Logan had packed his minimal belongings the night before, all of his clothes, shoes and personal items fitting into a single rucksack, he placed underneath his bed ready to be collected the minute Patton arrived. But until then he was stuck, looking out of the window, while the other kids laughed and played around him though Logan didn’t take much notice but he was aware of the certain happiness which had entered the Orphanage since Madame Claire was arrested and they were free of her control. The common room didn’t seem so horrible any more.

Just as Logan paid no attention to them, they paid him no mind, which seemed to be a common occurrence since returning from the hospital. Gone were the nasty comments whispered behind his back or spoken within full hearing range, the 10 pm beating leaving him to pick himself up off the floor and treat his ever growing number of injuries. They treated him with a sense of civility, presumably out of thanks for taking the brunt of Madame Claire’s abuse and the one who led to her long awaited arrest. Perhaps Logan had also thought to harshly of his fellow orphans who were also facing cruelty at the hands of their supposed guardians and were mere products of their environment, as was he. They banded together for survival purposes, using a pack like mentality to serve as protection against any potential threats or danger. It was understandable. Had Logan been raised differently he expected he would do the same for the sake of survival in a world which had not treated them kindly. Logan remained separated, though now by personal choice rather then his fellow orphans hatred of him and they all lived in a strange sense of harmony.

Logan pressed his fingers to the glass in order to get a better view. The anticipation was killing him - figuratively of course - and every time he saw a pedestrian cross the street his heart leapt into his throat, only to sink again when a stranger was revealed instead of Patton. This occurred several times until he caught a splash of yellow, a yellow so familiar to him, it was the yellow rain jacket which had been worn on every single one of Patton’s visits and he couldn’t conceal the audible squeak of excitement as he leapt to his feet and near ran out of the common room for the boys dormitory to collect his rucksack with a sense of child like wonder he had thought lost but it didn’t last for long.

“And where do you think you are going in such a hurry, Lobot?” Brandon asked his voice thick with hatred and mockery. He was blocking Logan entry into the dorm, wicked grin widening as he approached. It seemed not all of his former bullies were content leaving him alone.

“Let me through, Brandon,” Logan demanded standing a little straighter in an attempt to make himself seem more imposing but Brandon only laughed.

“No, I don’t think I will, everyone else might have backed off but not me. I am only just getting started with you,” Brandon said taking another step forward as Logan took one back.

“Your efforts will all be for naught as I am leaving you and this place today,” Logan announced raising his chin only for Brandon to bark out a laugh in response, the harshness of the sound causing Logan to flinch.

“Ha, don’t make me laugh. How pathetic are you to believe that man would want to adopt you?” Brandon spat backing Logan into the wall. “I bet he will just be like all of the others, they will pretend to love you, pretend to care for you and then…they will leave you,”.

“No, Pat…Mr Hart isn’t like that?” Logan exclaimed refusing to believe any more lies.

“No Logan, your dear Patton is exactly like that. He will see soon enough what a horrible mistake he made in choosing you and you will be back,” Brandon growled like an animal pressing one hand against Logan’s chest to keep him from escaping. “You will be all…alone,”.

Logan voice-box spasmed painfully in his throat as he opened his mouth to retort but no sound came out, with those five words Brandon had stolen his voice and he was helpless to defend himself, so instead he hung his head and awaited the first hit which never came.

“You will be back Lobot and when you do I will be here waiting for you,” Brandon said and smiled a final time before releasing Logan who stumbled barely catching himself as Brandon sauntered off, leaving Logan with a dangerous swirl of thoughts in his head.

You will be all alone.

Alone

Logan picked himself up and charged into his room, settling on his bed in attempt to settle his hammering heart and rapid breathing. He threw his bag across the room and run his hand through his hair again and again, wishing he could scream but his voice was trapped inside. He sat on the edge of his bed, running his hands up and down his arms as he fought an internal war and attempted to count through the breathing technique Patton had taught him, in attempt to control his quickening breaths. Until he heard a faint knock on the door, he silenced his choked breaths, fearing Brandon had returned to further torture him but when the door opened it revealed a boy…Noah he believed his name was. A small - far to small - quiet boy around eight or nine who Logan hadn’t heard say anything more than a few words. He wasn’t one of Brandon’s cronies but he hadn’t leapt to Logan’s rescue the minute he was cornered but Logan hadn’t expected him too.

Noah stared at Logan’s sorry state with a troubled expression on his face, Logan expected him to laugh, to berate him before running off to tell the others he found the robot crying but Noah did none of those things. Instead he closed the door, softly without making a sound, walked soundlessly over towards Logan’s bed and sat down beside him, risking short glances towards him every so often as Logan wrung his hands and rocked back and forth.

“A-are you okay?” Noah asked his voice barely louder than a whisper as he tapped his fingertips against his thighs. Logan was momentarily stunned, he had never expected one of his fellow orphans, the children who frequently bullied and were a source of years of torment for him, to attempt to comfort him. His head snapped around quickly causing Noah to flinch back at the intensity.

“Are you alright, I heard what Brandon said. He is a…bastard,” Noah repeated a little louder this time before breaking into a fit of soft giggles at the rude term he had used, lessening the weight on Logan’s chest slightly.

Logan nodded his head, as his voice had yet to return, perplexed by the suddenness of Noah’s concern.

“That is…good, I guess…Um, I just wanted to say sorry, we were all jerks to you,” Noah admitted both the confession and apology shocked Logan to the point he had almost entirely forgotten about his altercation with Brandon.

Logan shook his head quickly in response.

“No, you did everyone a favour in…getting rid of…her,” Noah stammered out as if the memory of Madame Claire plagued him still just as it did Logan.

Logan shook his head again, slower this time, momentarily confused by how he assisted in any way.

“Still, thanks. It helped,” Noah said his voice returning to it’s soft whisper as he bowed his head, long hair falling into his eyes.

Logan pointed to his own injuries and bruises before motioning to Noah who nodded before he had even finished his motion, he sighed and lifted up his shirt, which was far to big for his tiny frame, revealing a large and painful looking bruise across his abdomen and ribs.

“She found out I was the one who led Miss Maggie to seeing your bruises, it wasn’t the first time it had happened,” Noah admitted lowering his shirt, then fell silent again. This moment of consolidation between the pair felt significant as if a break through had been made in forming a relationship, perhaps a tentative friendship or at least an understanding of each other. “Uh, Maggie wanted to see you. That is why I came up, I think that guy is here,”.

Logan startled. Patton. He had completely forgotten about Patton. His throat spasmed painfully as he raised a hand to it. He couldn’t meet Patton like this, he was supposed to be going home with him, this was supposed to be a momentous occasion and not to be ruined by his over reaction to the words of a bully. Noah seemed to notice Logan drastic change in demeanour as his expression once again changed to concern.

“It will be alright, if this guy is a good as I have heard, you will be okay,” Noah said laying a tentative hand on Logan’s shoulder. “And don’t worry about your voice, it happens to me all of the time, okay?”.

Logan glanced up at his strange new acquaintance curiously, he didn’t know any of the specifics of Noah’s past, he knew that like his own it certainly wasn’t good. He had been hurt by the people who were supposed to care for him and that lead him here, where that abuse only continued. Just like him.

“Are you ready?” Noah asked standing and extending his hand out toward Logan, who nodded and took it graciously, allowing himself to be assisted before taking a final deep breath, collected his bag and followed Noah down to the foyer where Patton would be waiting for him.

“Logan, you are here,” Maggie exclaimed when she caught sight of Logan, she paused for a moment presumably taking note of Logan’s dishevelled appearance and her expression swiftly converted to one of concern as her gaze flitted between Noah and himself.

“Logan can’t talk right now but other than that he is okay,” Noah said who glanced towards Logan as he explained briefly the situation which Logan was incredible grateful for. Noah’s voice had quietened again but not to the extent where he became impossible to understand.

“Are you sure, Logan?” Maggie asked a hint of worry present in her tone as she presumably studied him, he nodded in response and the tension eased from her shoulders somewhat. “Okay, well, are you already to head off?”.

Logan glanced over to where Patton was stood for the first time since arriving in the foyer, he was dressed as he typically was with a sheepish grin stretched across his lips. Logan imagined he had worried Patton also and an overwhelming feeling of guilt crawled over him as he averted his gaze to his floor, clutching his bag tighter to his chest which didn’t escape the notice of Patton who had been becoming increasing perceptive these days.

“It is alright Logan, you can take all the time you need to say goodbye,” Patton said throwing him a smile when Logan eventually worked up the courage to meet his eye.

Logan turned to Noah first who was in the process of attempting to sneak away, presumably believing he was interrupting, he caught his eye and smiled as it was the only form of communication he could manage. Noah returned the smile, speaking his goodbyes without words but they reached Logan nonetheless. He believed perhaps in a different time and place, without the burden and memory of their pasts a top their shoulders and the fight for survival, the two of them could have been friends, close friends, able to confide in each other and share common interests but fate hadn’t been kind to either of them. Logan hoped Noah would to find his ‘Patton’. Next he turned to Maggie, the woman who had fought and advocated for him even in the moments when he did not earn or deserve her support, she had been his only ally in this lonely place and every day he was eternally grateful for her company.

“I told you so,” Maggie giggled as she wiped away a few tears, referring to the open day where she had told him to not lose hope, the very day he met Patton and that day had led him to where he was now. “I don’t know what I am going to do without you, reading isn’t going to be nearly as fun but don’t you worry about me, you won’t get a rid of me that easily. You may be entering a new and exciting chapter of your life but just as I told you before, circumstances may change and we may be apart but I will never leave you, Logan,”.

Maggie was crying openly now, Logan too was fighting back tears now and then he did something entirely out of character. He threw himself into Maggie’s arms, squeezing tightly just as he felt hers wind around his slight frame, holding on just as tight. Eventually they broke apart and she pressed a final kiss to his forehead as he left to stand by Patton side.

“You are welcome to come over any time you like, you too kiddo,” Patton said Noah jolting in surprise at his mention then smiling and nodding in response.

“Thank you Patton,” Maggie said dabbing at her wet cheeks. “Goodbye Logan,”.

Logan smiled once again and waved as he left with Patton, leaving between the Orphanage he had spent the last two years of his life, where he had been tortured and tormented for simply being. He was leaving that all behind and beginning a new life. Logan Baxter would become Logan Hart…he only hoped he would live up to the name.

Patton could barely contain his excitement as he drove home, Logan sat in the passenger seat just like he had imagined though not present in his fantasies was Logan’s silence. Noah hadn’t explained what caused Logan to become non-verbal and Patton hadn’t pressed the subject any further, hoping in due time his voice would return to him, instead he attempted to fill the weighty silence with his soft humming along to the radio as he snuck glances at Logan every so often. He was staring out of the window, presumably studying his surroundings as he fidgeted unconsciously with the cube in his hand, nervousness present in his rigid posture and frantic hands.

“Hey Logan, I know this is a massive change for you and I want you to feel comfortable and safe, so I don’t want to push you into anything you don’t want to do or talk about and please tell me if I am doing something wrong or making you uncomfortable. Your happiness is my top priority,” Patton said after an elongated silence. He knew breaking down Logan’s walls would be difficult but he was determined and wouldn’t give up so easily. “The kids are all pretty excited to see you again, they want to give you a tour of the house and show you your new room, we can also go shopping for clothes and some things to decorate your room if you like?”.

The conversation continued to flow with Patton firing out different topics and statements while Logan reacted, nodding, shaking his head and even smiling at some points but despite the lengthy car journey Logan’s voice still hadn’t returned which sparked a negative swirl of thoughts. What if he was being to much? Going to fast? What if Logan had changed his mind and he didn’t want to be adopted by him? Patton cut off the dangerous downward spiral of negativity with a few deep breaths, Emile’s advice ringing in his ears and shooting a smile towards Logan who had paused in his observations to eye Patton’s change in demeanour curiously, in an effort to appease him.

“I am so happy you are here Logan ,” Patton said watching as Logan’s pale complexion blushed and Patton outwardly squealed. “Aw kiddo, you are so cute,”.

Logan spluttered and pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away in a mock annoyance as Patton laughed at the display. They would be just fine. As a family, they would support each other through all difficulties which may arise and through times of both light and darkness and come out stronger together. He had faith they would be okay.

“Well kiddo, we are here,” Patton announced as Logan shrank back, his former apprehension returning. “Come on, you have nothing to worry about, I promise,”.

Logan nodded and collected his belongings, walking cautiously behind Patton as they approached the large house. It was surprisingly big and well-maintained, particularly the front garden; a luscious green lawn, a combination of wild flowers and potted plants skillfully arranged in an explosion of colour and pleasant fragrances, bees buzzing happily from flower to flower. Azaleas, freesias, geraniums, hydrangeas and others of all varieties in full bloom. Logan couldn’t recall the last time he had seen such a breath-taking garden, evident from it’s appearance it was well-loved by it’s carer. Upon entering the house they were met with Roman, Virgil, Declan and a man he did not recognise, waiting in what Logan presumed to be the general living area from the choice in furnishings and the ‘homey’ atmosphere.

“We are back, did you miss us?”Patton said as Declan rushed into his arms and Patton lifting him, balancing the toddler on his hip but the others attention was all turned upon Logan.

“Welcome Logan, Patton has told me all about you. I’m Emile, kind of the honorary uncle,” Emile explained as he extended a hand to Logan which he took out of politeness, Patton had informed him of his rather strange relationship with Emile - who had a rather unnatural hair colour - that he was in fact not related to the family in any way and was actually Patton’s close friend but took the place of the children ‘uncle’ as Patton had no siblings himself. He also explained that Emile was a therapist, a field which Logan found fascinating but struggled himself to comprehend and for an unknown reason he felt somewhat self-conscious in the presence of a therapist who may easily be able to read his expressions and mannerisms. “Do you how do?”.

“Just ignore that,” Virgil said seeming to note Logan confusion in regards to the grammatically incorrect statement. “Long time no see,”. Logan merely nodded in response - as it was all he in the moment could do - which gained him a rather strange look from both Virgil and Roman he could not decipher.

“Well now you are here, let us make haste and begin the grand tour,” Roman proclaimed with a dramatic sweep of the arm. “Come dear brethren, to our first location the living room,”.

“Unfortunately, I will have to miss the tour, I am needed back at work but I was nice meeting you Logan,” Emile said before saying his goodbyes and exiting as the tour commenced.

Beginning in the living room - where they were already stood - Roman began retelling the several stylistic choices with Patton chiming in every so often as Virgil collapsed onto the couch, Declan crawling over to nestle in beside him. The living room was moderately sized, open-planned leading to the dining and kitchen area through an archway, with a staircase leading to the second storey on the left. The walls were a pale blue with a single yellow accent wall which held the majority of the decorations, picture frames and a sizeable shelf holding; various miscellaneous knick-knacks, books and a large framed family portrait. Furniture filled almost all available space, from the enormous couch which sat in the centre of the room, adorned in decorative cushions and the softest looking blankets Logan believed he had ever seen also in a variety of bright colours and interesting patterns, a similarly styled armchair sat adjacent to the couch. Toy and games congregated in a organised clutter in each corner and no space was left unfilled by personal items which only someone as unique as Patton would own. Light flooded into the room through the wide open windows and a pleasant aroma of lavender was emitted from half burned candles laid on the coffee table.

Moving on, into the kitchen and dining area, the bright theme continued with the walls painted this time a much brighter azure. A sizeable dining table, seating eight, filled the majority of the room with each seat covering colour corresponding to the favourite colour of a family member, a glass vase filled with wild flowers similar to those seen in the garden acted as the centrepiece. To the right, was the gigantic and well-loved kitchen, from the first look it was evidently Patton’s area of the house with a matching soft grey and baby blue appearance. Appliances and baking supplies covered the expanse of counter-space, a variety novelty items such as cooking utensils and cutlery were proudly displayed and a overwhelming amount of cookery and baking themed puns were littered throughout the kitchen and Patton’s consistent giggling only grew louder. To the left, held a bathroom and utility room, both of which Roman purposefully skipped instead excitably rushing upstairs to where the bedrooms were situated.

“My room first!” Roman announced bounding down the hallways passing several other doorways, pausing in front of the one decorated in several brightly coloured stickers referencing things Logan did not recognise.

Roman’s room was much like Roman himself. Dramatic. With crimson walls, accented with white and gold, decorated in a variety of signed posters, artwork and other theatrical adornments, a queen size canopy bed sat against one wall with a similar red and gold coloured bed-spread patterned with tiny crowns fitting with the ‘princely’ theme, a stuffed dragon toy sat proudly at the head. Opposite from the bed was a desk which previously may have been white but years of paint spills and bored doodles had permanently stained it, drawing utensils and half-finished drawings were strewn across the workspace in a haphazard mess which Logan desperately desired to organise. One wall contained a wardrobe overflowing with clothes, costumes and other miscellaneous items Roman presumably felt some sort of attachment to, mindless mess; purposeless knick-knack and aesthetic pieces were scattered across all available surfaces. The room had an overall sense of organised chaos, nothing at all like Logan’s old room with its pristine walls and no personal touch or flair as Roman’s had, personalised to fit Roman’s identity flawlessly.

Secondly, Virgil and Declan’s shared room, slightly smaller than Roman’s room but still moderately sized. Each brother’s section easily identified by the choices in colour and style. Virgil’s segment of the room was considerably darker than Declan’s with deep purple walls plastered with posters unlike Roman’s, handwritten notes pinned up and string lights hanging above his bed as a secondary light source, his bedspread was of a similar colour with a grey stuff donkey and a skeleton doll tucked beneath the sheets and a soft grey weighted blanket sat, folded on the edge of his bed which Logan believed was commonly used to reduce anxiety and stress in order to improve sleep. Virgil’s room also included a desk, though far neater than Roman’s still contained a considerably number of stationary spread across it, at the back portion of the desk sat a collection of journals varying in size and colour, stacked orderly via these characteristics creating a satisfying gradient affect. Adjacent to the desk was a bookcase which Logan took particular interest in, it contain numerous titles and authors he himself was familiar with specifically those focusing around gothic fiction but there was also a considerably number of modern poetry books which took him by surprise. Virgil had fewer belongings than Roman though a far greater number than himself, a guitar had been balanced against his night-stand which held a pair of purple headphones, a locked notebook and a miniature book of poems. The room was less visually distracting as Roman but just as stimulating as Logan studied his surrounding, theorising from Virgil’s withdrawn disposition he spent a great majority of his time spent in his room where he could freely express himself.

Declan’s section of the room was arguably smaller than Virgil which was understandable given the age difference and their difference in needs. The bed was smaller with barriers on each side presumably for protection purposes, the blanket was a intense sunshine yellow and perhaps the softest blanket Logan had ever witnessed in his life, it was also filled with stuffed toys, the largest being a yellow and green striped snake which engulfed much of the bed along with a variety of others. A lime green beanbag chair sat in the back corner of the room which similarly held more soft toys and on the left of the bed stood an appropriately sized cabinet, holding games, books and yet again more toys. This section provided a sharp contrast in colours given the harshness of Virgil’s area but also contributed a cheerful brightness to the otherwise dark room.

Separated from the other bedrooms was Patton’s, it was simple, modest but filled with memories, picture frames adorned every baby blue wall and surface, containing moments of importance immortalised in frozen images. Award and certificates, photo albums stacked high, set proudly on display. His own large bed was covered in a plain grey bedspread and a solitary stuffed dog sat the head. Despite its simplicity Logan felt largely at ease in Patton’s room as it held the same soothing air as Patton did as if Patton’s spirit had been built into the foundation of the house, his personality stretched throughout the many rooms, filling each of them with the same sense of comfort which Logan had grown to need.

“Now lastly, welcome to your room Logan,” Patton announced as he open the final door just across from Virgil and Declan’s, to the right of Roman’s.

The room was large, far larger than Logan had expected and already painted and furnished with deep navy blue walls and a bed pressed again one wall, dressed in a tartan bedspread of varying shades of blue and sat in the centre was a simple stuff bear. On the opposite wall a dark wood desk which provided plenty of workspace for studying, on each side was a similarly coloured bookcase, stretching high to the ceiling, half filled with books, titles some of which he had read others of which he recognised and remembered seeing in the book-store Patton had taken him to some while ago now though still granted him enough shelf space. The room as contained an empty wardrobe waiting to be filled, a bedside table barren expect for a solitary reading lamp. Logan glanced around the room…his room with amazement and a hint of fear. All of this was his, he could hardly believe it, how much this must of cost to organise for his coming? It was far to much. He wished he had his voice to tell Patton so, he would be content with an undecorated closet, spacious enough for a simple bed and desk for it was all he required but as the thought of the cramped and narrow closet entered his mind his throat tightened further.

“It is pretty bare at the moment but over the weekend we can go shopping, you can choose some decorations and buy you some more clothes,” Patton said with a smile but Logan struggled to return it. Patton would be spending more money on him, he had done far more for Logan than anyone else had, simply being allowed into his home and accepted in his family dynamic was enough. “Well, that is the tour finished and I am starving so how about I make dinner a little earlier tonight?”. The answer was a excited exclamation from Roman, Virgil and Declan.

“Excellent, Logan do you like spaghetti bolognese?” Patton asked and to be honest Logan did not know, the meals at the orphanage rarely changed and while living with his parents he was kept on a strict diet but in order to not displease Patton he nodded.

With that Logan then found himself directed back downstairs and into the dining area, taking a seat beside Virgil who was scrolling through his cellular device, while Patton worked in the kitchen to prepare their meal. Roman who had sat diagonally to Logan, vibrated excitedly in his seat, Declan who sat adjacent to both Roman and Virgil balanced on his knees mimicking Roman’s excitement. Not long later, Patton had completed the preparations and set his plate of food down in front of him. Logan allowed the delicious smell to fill his nostrils as every one else dug in before doing so himself, pasta was always a difficult food for him to eat as it was nearly impossible for him to separate it into matching halves so he kept to his ingrained rule of only eating half of whatever he was provided but he made an effort and when he did he struggled to stop. He couldn’t recall a time when he had ingested something so delicious.

“So Logan, I have a very important question for you. What is your favourite Disney movie?” Roman asked pausing in his consumption to the phrase the serious sounding question. “You do know what Disney is, right?. Presumably gauging Logan’s confusion from his blank expression, another shake of the head gave him his answer.

“You don’t know what Disney is!” Virgil exclaimed appearing to be in a state of shock at his admission which only added to Logan’s level of perplexity.

“God, you are so uncultured,” Roman sighed his gaze returned to his meal until his eyes once again lit up. “Hey padre, can we have a movie night, we can show specs here all of our favourite movies?”.

“I don’t see why not, lets do it,” Patton said with a grin and Roman and Virgil both hurried to finish their meals before leaving the table in order to begin their preparations for the ‘movie night’ as Roman referred to it. “Don’t worry Logan, they just get a little excited. Are you finished?”.

Logan nodded, pushing away his plate with approximately half of the pasta left on his plate, Patton eyed it with a strange look before sighing and removing it with his own, in order to clean them. How stupid. Logan should be washing dishes, not allowing Patton to do it for him. He stood abruptly and made his way over to the sink where Patton was stood, to take over the job of cleaning them.

“Don’t worry about this kiddo, you go and sit and we will get started soon,” Patton said directing him to the living room while he continued cleaning.

Only a short while later, after all preparations had been made; suitable treats and refreshments provided, soft blankets tossed across their laps and films had been selected, one per sibling and a fourth chosen by Patton that he believed Logan would appreciate. They began with Roman’s pick, one of the earlier Disney films, named Sleeping Beauty which told the story of a Princess who was sent away to live in the woods with some supernatural beings and then returned sixteen years later, only to become cursed and fall into a deep sleep so a prince could come and save her. Thought the premise was rather outdated and somewhat offensive the animation style was appealing and the musical numbers enjoyable, it became evident to Logan why it was Roman’s favourite relatively quickly as he jumped up to perform every song as Virgil berated him, throwing pieces of popcorn at him. Virgil choice was The Nightmare before Christmas though it was not near any of those holidays, the plot was rather strange with some rather frightening Halloween creatures attempting to ‘steal’ Christmas by kidnapping the fabled Santa Claus and in the middle Virgil and Roman broke into a debate regarding whether or not the film should be classified as a Halloween or a Christmas film. Though Declan’s choice may have been the strangest of all, The Jungle Book in which animals could talk and a jaguar tasked himself with returning the main character to the ‘man village’ as he was being hunted by a tiger, though Logan believed Declan may have only like the film because of the inclusion of a snake as a character despite the character in question being a villain who did make an attempt on the main characters life. The final film chosen by Patton particularly for Logan, piqued his interest. Big Hero Six, in which Hiro an incredibly intelligent child with an aptitude for robotics loses his older brother in a fire and with the help of his brother’s invention a healthcare robot named Baymax and his friends forms a superhero team in order to discover what happened to his brother, initially seeking revenge but later finds forgiveness and by the end everyone bar him was crying at the ‘death’ of Baymax. Though the bitter-sweet ending was lost to Logan he appreciated the heavy inclusion of science and robotics and by the end he found himself enjoying the film.

Following the movie night, Roman and Virgil retired to their rooms and Logan collected a book from his rucksack before returning to the living room and sat beside Patton who held a drowsy Declan in his lap, gently running his fingers through his curls as Logan observed him.

“Are you okay Logan?” Patton asked a hated question of his as he rarely understood his own feelings. “You have been quiet all day,”. Logan pressed two fingers against his throat, communicating that his voice still hadn’t returned despite all his efforts but he still could scarcely make a sound.

“It is okay, this is a massive change and you are adapting to a new environment which will take time but please I want you to tell me if…” Patton was cut off.

“Dad!” Virgil called from upstairs. “Roman is being an idiot,”.

“Am not, you are the stupid one!” Roman shot back. The noise seemed to startled Declan to let out an ear-piercing cry as Logan slapped his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out the incessant crying. Patton leapt up, immediately cradled Declan to his chest, rocking him back and forth and murmuring soothing words of comfort in an effort to calm him but to no avail. The cries only increased in volume as did the anger-fuelled bickering upstairs, the painful noise scraping against the inside of his head.

Patton seemed to note Logan’s growing distress at the influx of noise and he called upstairs as he continued to try and quiet Declan but his efforts were unsuccessful in solving the disagreement between Roman and Virgil and their argument only grew louder as they spat degrading nicknames at each other. This pattern continued for another few minutes until Logan recognised the signs of growing panic in Patton manner and expression as he found himself unable to settle the distress of Declan or the conflict between Roman and Virgil, the sight unsettled Logan it seemed unnatural for Patton’s typically happy disposition to be maimed by anxiety. So Logan did something entirely unlike him, he stood up, removed his hand from his ears despite his own spike in anxiety at the increased noise level and held out in arms.

“Oh, thank you so much, kiddo,” Patton said grateful, once he realised what Logan meant by the action and gently lowered the still screaming and squirming child into his arms before hurrying upstairs. Logan sat down with a wriggling Declan in his lap. Now what does he do now?

“Now, I want you both to apologise to each other,” Patton said somewhat sternly to Roman and Virgil who shared the same shame filled look. Their argument had been resolved quickly through both of them sharing their sides and opinions while the other listened and by the end both understood the other feelings.

“Sorry,” Virgil grumbled sinking further into his hoodie.

“I must also apologise for my words,” Roman and extended a hand out towards Virgil. “Truce,”.

“Truce,” Virgil repeated taking his hand, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Yay, now I need to go and save Logan from D…” Patton paused he didn’t hear screaming and crying any more, which was unusual. If Dee was having one of his meltdowns it typically took up to half an hour to calm him down. What if something had happened?

“Logan!” Patton called out as he hurried downstairs, followed by Roman and Virgil but his worries were dispelled instantly as he heard Logan’s soft voice reading to Declan as he sat nicely in his lap, babbling along to Logan’s words.

Patton’s heart swelled with pride as he, Roman and Virgil moved silently to sit and listen to Logan’s telling of A Study in Scarlet, the very book he had explained to Patton the day they met. Logan’s voice was low and calm a little shaky in some areas from lack of use but it worked in settling Dee from his outburst in a matter of minutes. He was incredible, quiet and conscientious, so mature for his age though Patton knew that was the result of years of abuse and it would take time for Logan to fully open up to him but he was determined and willing. After all Logan was a member of his famILY now.

Once Declan began to drift in and out consciousness in Logan’s lap he stopped, closed his book and then only noticed Patton, Roman and Virgil’s presence, intently listening to him as he read aloud. It felt natural as reading and immersing himself into a new world through the words written on a page was a way in which often calmed himself after his own moments of infrequent upset, to begin reading to the wailing child and it worked, he quieten almost immediately and at one point attempted to read along though most came out as indecipherable nonsense. He felt his face heat up at the attention he was receiving and unconsciously curled in on himself in the hope they would move their focus elsewhere.

“I think it is someone’s bedtime,” Patton said taking the limp toddler from Logan’s lap. “Say goodnight, DeeDee,”.

“Night-night, Lo-Lo,” Declan mumbled waving his gloved hand in Logan’s direction.

“Goodnight,” Logan said unsure of what else to say. Once Declan had been put to sleep, Roman and Virgil departed shortly after, retiring to their own bedrooms, leaving only himself and Patton left in the swiftly darkening living room, illuminated by lamp light.

“Thank you Logan, for helping with Dee,” Patton said with a warm smile.

“It was a simple task, I have done nothing to deserve your thanks,” Logan admitted glancing down at the book in his lap, only realising now it was the very book he had been reading and explained to Patton the first time they met which felt so long ago now.

“No Logan, you did something for me, no matter how small a thing it may have been, you still did it though it made you uncomfortable. So, thank you,” Patton explained decreasing the proximity between them. “How are you feeling?”.

“I am a little…overwhelmed though I suppose it is to be expected going through such a significant change but…” Logan paused unsure of whether or not to continue but with a encouraging prompt from Pattopn he did. “You are not the first potential guardian to…show interest in me. It was at my previous orphanage, I had been there for a year at this point and a young couple began to visit me. They were both pleasant and kind-hearted people, they came to see me weekly and as the orphanage policy, organised a week long transitionary period where I would live with them in order to see if I was the correct fit for their household. It was my fault they changed, I became difficult, a burden on them, I was not the same child they had met at the orphanage and I was treated as such. When the week was finished and I returned to the orphanage they promised they would come back to see me the next week but I never saw them again, I do not blame them for their actions, they were deserved but that experience I believe has somewhat affected my own behaviour and I merely wish to apologise for it in advance,”.

Patton was silent and for a moment Logan believed he may be regretting his decision to adopt him and bring him into his family with his new insight into Logan’ past and behaviours and was planning to return him to the orphanage the following morning. Thankfully, he hadn’t yet unpacked his belongings in preparation for this moment. But instead of the anger he expected to follow at this admission, tears appeared in Patton’s eyes.

“Logan, kiddo, no,” Patton whimpered a sound which made Logan’s heart seize up. “You aren’t my possession or something to be returned at my choosing, you are my son and it my job as your dad to love and protect you no matter the circumstances or how difficult it may be. Those people…they should have done the same, attempted to understand your behaviour instead of punishing you for it. I promise you, I will love you and care for you like a dad is supposed to, that is my promise to you,”.

“Okay,” Logan whispered unsure of what else to say, there was a swirl of emotions within his head and chest, none of which he understood. His eyes stung with unshed tears and he scrubbed at them in the hope they would vanish but to no avail, one rolled down his cheek.

“Can I hug you kiddo?” Patton asked arms already outstretched when Logan nodded, needing the warmth and comfort of Patton’s arms as they enveloped him in a sense of security and he never wanted to leave them.

They sat curled up together, Logan burrowed within Patton’s arms until he felt himself growing weary, a yawn breaking from his lips as Patton suggested with a tired giggle he go to bed. Now in the bedroom. No, his bedroom. He undressed, replacing his day clothes with his pyjamas and prepared to go to sleep but the bear tucked beneath the covers caught his attention. Logan took it from it’s position against the pillows, tracing his fingertips across the soft grey fur. How strange that Patton’s same comforting nature was imbued into this lifeless toy. He had never owned a toy before, his biological parents thought them frivolous and a distraction from his studies and the Orphanage’s were to be shared amongst all of the children but he never saw the appeal of them until now. Logan hugged the simple bear tight against his chest, using it’s paw the wipe the wetness from his cheeks and he fell quickly to sleep, underneath his new sheets, in his new bed, in his new room, in his new home and new family.

Logan slept peacefully for the first night in years.

Notes: Noah is a new and completely unintentional OC which I have fallen in love with, so if anyone would like some headcanons for him please let me know.

Also, the Hart house is somewhat modeled after my own house.

And lastly, I am in need of information of how American middle schools work as I am from Scotland and I have no idea. Thanks.

Tag list: @poems-art-darkness-n-more @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @alex-cain @tacochippy @mason-does-a-thing @darkrainbow333 @amber1594 @falseh0od @lovingcreatorstrawberry @callboxkat @anxiousangel121 @comicsimpson @harrypotternerdprincess @cobythinks @whatschooldoesntteachyou @fandomkitty8 @coloursintheblur @read-write-inspire-repeat @clinicalawesomeness @deceit-sanders-deserved-better @scared-ghosthunter

If you would like to be added to the tag list, have a question about the series and it’s characters or you simply want to say hi, please do not hesitate to send me an ask or a message.

#sander sides #sander sides au #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #Emile Picani #Adoption AU #thomas sanders #cartoon therapy #home is where the hart is #found families #original characters #My writing #my fics

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santoteez · 4 years

Text

The Dormant Beast - Jongho (1)

Part: 1 of ?

Idol: Jongho of ATEEZ

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 2,071

Warnings: Slight prejudice and bullying (non-racial and it’s not bodyshame either) MC is Black Female, Mentions of murder

Crescent walked through the halls, ignoring the snickers and looks of disgust from the other students. It wasn’t because of the curves of her body. It wasn’t even her melanin-rich skin that caused this reaction. No, this world wasn’t plagued with body shaming or racism. But, there was prejudice. And it was due to a lack of aura.

Where Crescent lives, each and every person has their aura. An animalistic force that overtakes the body on command. Humanity was supposed to devolve from humanoids back into apes, in reverse of how we allegedly came to be. Whether or not that’s true is up for debate. What is for sure, is that somewhere along the line, technology and science mixed into the biological DNA of the human race, and rather than reverting into animals, they became animalistic humans. The closest thing to a hybrid, but not quite centaurs or mermaids.

Everyone has their aura develop sometime in elementary or middle school, and most have perfected it by senior year. Crescent’s sister, Eclipse, had the aura of a cheetah. It allowed her to move faster than any land animal aura, and gave her bright, gold eyes and a slender frame. Her parents were both hyenas, making them manipulative and, contrary to popular belief, rather violent and predatory towards others. They were very boisterous; their voices sometimes being heard from miles away. Even Jongho, Crescent’s best friend, had an aura. He was a gorilla, making him incredibly strong and highly intelligent. His incredible strength and broad build made him the most popular in the school, as well as the strongest. Just like real gorillas, though, Jongho was a big softie and rarely showed his true strength. Sometimes you would forget he had the ability to rip you limb from limb and destroy the entire school without breaking a sweat.

Then, there was Crescent. From the beginning, Crescent knew something was wrong. When all her friends were running and flying to school, she was taking the bus. When there were battles for dominance during recess, she cowered in the library. It all came down to one day, she was challenged by Desire, the strongest girl in school, to a battle.

“Come on, Crescent. Everyone knows you’re just hiding your aura. You never want to show it. You probably think you’re too good for battle. Show us what you got.”

“Desire. I already told you I FORFEIT my battle. You already won. Why do you keep seeking me out?”

“Because I know you’re just mocking me by not fighting me. You probably think I won’t win because of whatever aura you have. In order to win, I must assert dominance. So get in position.” She said, channeling her aura. The astral projection of a howling wolf appeared in the air, and she adopted a dominant stance.

Crescent, on the other hand, just stood there. What was she to do?

“If you won’t power up willingly, I’ll have to beat it out of you.” Desire ran, pouncing on Crescent. She pinned her down, bearing her sharp teeth.

Crescent, aware of how damaging a wolf bite can be, shut her eyes tightly and braced herself for the pain.

It never came, though. Crescent opened her eyes to see Jongho with Desire in hand. He was holding her up off the ground by her neck, but not in a chokehold way. The group that had formed to view the fight between the girls had dispersed into the corners, scared of what Jongho might do, but still nosey enough to watch.

“She said she didn’t want to fight you three times, didn’t she? That’s surely going against the rules if you attack her anyway, right Crescent?” He smiled at the much shorter girl, who had yet to get up.

Jongho set Desire down, reaching out a hand to help Crescent up. Once Crescent was on her feet, Jongho spoke. “Crescent, maybe it would help if you just showed your aura? You already forfeited, so it wouldn’t lead to a battle, but it might help to ease some of the ambiguity.” He shrugged.

For the first time since realizing it, Crescent burst into tears. “I don’t show my aura…because I don’t have one!”

Gasps were heard all up and down the corridor.

“That’s impossible!” Desire shouted. “If you’re something weak, like a mouse or something, just say it. But don’t say you have no aura.”

Crescent sighed. “I’m telling the truth. I’m not a mouse, or a cheetah, or even a hyena. I’m just human. No aura.” She said, sobbing harder.

Jongho embraced her, pulling her close and rubbing her back. “What are you all still staring at? There’s no fight. Get to class!” His voice boomed against the walls, causing the crowd to scurry, even Desire.

“Hey, it’s okay. Maybe you’re just a late bloomer? I know some people that didn’t get their aura until high school! Or maybe it’s a medical thing! Whatever it is, I’ll help you figure it out. We’ll find your aura, together.”

That was four years ago. They were best friends ever since. No matter what rituals or remedies Jongho and Crescent tried, they couldn’t figure out what was up with her aura. Doctor after doctor told her there was nothing wrong with her, she was just auraless. There were cases of something hindering an aura, such as a lean animal in a curvy body, or vice versa. But none of that applied to Crescent. They tried potions made by the black cat auras, but after a food poisoning scare, they decided not to continue down that path.

Now in junior year, Crescent and Jongho decided to put their aura search on hold as they prepared for college applications and senior year.

Crescent opened her locker, sliding out the way immediately as a bucket of water fell out, which would’ve drenched her if it wasn’t for her quick reflexes. Chuckles and snickers were heard around her as she stepped into the water to stand in front of her locker.

Grabbing her books, she paused to look at the picture in her locker. It was her and Jongho from the previous Valentine’s Day. Every girl in the school was asked out to the town fair that day, except Crescent. Despite her reputation, she was still hopeful someone would be nice to her, just for that day. She was laying in bed, tears seeping into her pillow when there was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Jongho with a bouquet of sunflowers, knowing she hated roses.

“Were you seriously crying? Geez, didn’t think I had to formally ask you to the fair. Thought it was obvious I’d take you.” He said, stepping into the house. “I’ll wait for you in the living room. There’s no way you’d want to go out looking like that.” He said, referring to her pajamas and puffy eyes. They headed for the fair after Crescent changed, getting on the rides and playing the games. Jongho beat the ball toss, despite the glass bottles being glued together (because of obvious reasons) and won Crescent a huge teddy bear with a red ribbon. He asked the booth owner to take their picture with the prize and, lo and behold, that’s how the picture came to exist. Crescent cuddling into Jongho’s arm with the teddy bear in between and the two of them with bright smiles.

It was that night that Crescent realized her feelings for Jongho. At first, she thought it was hero worship, a feeling caused by Jongho saving her from Desire. But that night, under the city lights, spending the entire evening together, she realized it was something deeper.

She sighed. It’s not like it could ever happen. Someone with such a powerful aura as Jongho’s wouldn’t be caught with someone of a low aura, let alone someone as auraless as Crescent. Jongho had proven to her time and time again that he didn’t really care for the hierarchy, but Crescent knew better than to hope that high.

Suddenly, her locker was slammed closed by Desire and her minions.

“Crescent! Good morning!” She said in an overly sweet tone that was anything but.

“No aura, still. No fashion sense either.” She said, glancing down at the girl’s sneakers and overalls. “With no aura, you’re not much of a looker, you know.”

“Even with all the Chanel and Prada in the world, you’d look down on me.” Crescent said, matter of factly.

“That’s a fact!” Desire said, bumping shoulders with Crescent just as Jongho turned the corner.

“Jongho, my love! How are you? I missed you all weekend!” She said, draping her arm over Jongho’s pathetically.

“Missed me enough to come harass Crescent again?” He asked.

“What? No, no, no! I just came to tell her that her overalls are so chic! 90s are in right now, you know. I should get myself a pair!”

“Maybe you should, I get them from Levi’s.” Crescent smiled.

“Maybe I will.” Desire said, clenching her teeth.

“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you in them. They’d suit you.” Jongho lied.

“Really? I’ll look into it!” Desire said, walking away. “Great now I have to wear those things? Do you think they would go with my heels? Why does he always hang out with the challenged one anyway?” She asked her minions as they walked away.

Jongho and Crescent burst into laughter when she turned the corner.

“Like she’d ever wear overalls,” Crescent said.

“I hope she does, it’d be funny to see her pretend to be comfortable,” Jongho replied. “How was the weekend, Cres?”

“Pretty good, I sparred with Eclipse again. I was sore yesterday but I’m feeling better.”

Ever since they realized she was auraless, Eclipse took it upon herself to train Crescent in hand to hand combat, teaching her how to block and dodge hits as well as serve them. Crescent hated it at first, but it turned out to be beneficial at times when people turned to her as a punching bag. They never expected her to fight back.

Jongho nodded. “That’s good. It’s important you can defend yourself, especially when I’m not around. I don’t want anyone messing with you.”

“I’m fine, Jongho. I can handle myself.”

“I know, doesn’t mean I’m not gonna have your back.” He said, swinging his arm around her shoulders as they walked into class.

“Good Morning Strongville Campus! This is Desire with your morning announcements.” The girl screeched through the P.A. system, causing Crescent to roll her eyes.

“Crescent, I know you’re rolling your eyes. Don’t.” Crescent looked up at the speaker, mouthing ‘How?’ “Anyways, I’d like to start off with a moment of silence for Strongville High alum Hyunjae Kim, who was brutally murdered by The Void, making him the 7th victim to succumb to the unknown assailant. The moment of silence will start now, please refrain from speaking until you hear my voice.”

Crescent’s mind wandered to the victims of The Void. Those with strong auras have been slain one by one over the course of three months. Those who were in the area of the murder have reported a lightless darkness around the time of death, causing the media to aptly name the faceless suspect ‘The Void.’

“Thank you for participating. In other news-”

“Hyunjae might’ve moved out of town, but he still lived pretty close. Do you think The Void will pop up here?” Crescent asked Jongho.

“No idea. Some say he’s looking for the OmniAura. The one that possesses the aura of the entire animal kingdom. The One True Ruler.”

“Do you really think someone that possesses that much power exists?” She asked incredulously.

“No one really thought someone who possessed NO power existed, and yet here you are. I say anything’s possible.” Jongho shrugged.” Hey, did you hear back from those colleges? What did they say?”

She sighed. “The same as the rest. That they’ve never encountered a spiritually challenged person, meaning auraless. They thanked me for applying and said they’d keep in touch when they researched how to better accommodate the auraless.”

Jongho squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

Crescent smiled, despite being worried about something entirely different. She stared out the window. What did The Void want? Is there really an OmniAura? If he was seeking out all the strong auras, how long would it be until he came for Jongho?

Stephie back at it again with the fanfics! I posted earlier today too, I’m on a ROLL. I took a mini and unannounced hiatus, but I’m back to stay! I realized how much it was stressing me out not to write, but ya girl got a new job and was finding it hard to adjust and time manage. So bear with me while I get back into the groove.

#ateez #ateez jongho #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #choi jongho

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parkerrogersgirl · 7 years

Text

Happy Accident Part XIII

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1,727

Warnings: Lots of feelings

Summary: After he saves you from being injured at the gym, THE Steve Rogers asks you out. Little by little, you start falling in love with every part of him, his quirks, his old-fashionedness, and his charm. But are you ready to let your guard down and let him in?

A/N: Y’ALL I am SO sorry this is late. It’s been a rough past few weeks and I had no motivation to write this so I’m sorry. I’m having a really hard time writing this

Catch up here!

Masterlist

Steve sets you down, kissing your forehead before going over to his closet to get dressed. You unzip your bag, settling on your warm skinny jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. You shimmy out of Steve’s shirt, sliding on your pants. You feel hands on your hips, and Steve kisses your neck.

“You look delicious half-naked. But not nearly as good as you do when you’re completely naked.”

“Babe I gotta get dressed,” you giggle, and he squeezes your ass gently.

“Do you really, though? We could just stay here and be naked all day.”

You turn around, glaring at him, “I was promised the Steve Rogers tour. I will get the Steve Rogers tour. We can take each others’ clothes off when we get back.”

He smirks, “you’re hot when you’re irritated.”

You turn back around, putting on your bra, followed by your shirt. You grab your scarf and Steve turns you around, kissing you deeply.

“Ready for the Official Steve Rogers Tour™, doll?” He grins at you.

“Of course. I can’t wait to walk through the steps of teeny tiny Cap.”

He groans, “PLEASE NEVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN.”

You laugh and walk downstairs with Steve, putting on your socks and boots. He helps you into your jacket and you put on your scarf, putting your hands on your hips to stand in superhero pose. He puts on and zips his jacket, kissing the tip of your nose. He takes your hand and walks outside, and you shiver. He puts an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.

“Alright, so you’ve already been to my childhood home. I’ve gotten beat up in pretty much every alley within 5 blocks of the house. Bucky came to my rescue often, but a lot of the time I just ended up with a lot of bruises.”

You roll your eyes, looking up at him, “and why would you get in fights?”

“It was mostly against bullies. I was trying to stick up for the little guy. Most of them were picking on other guys and I tried to defend them.”

You turn and kiss him softly, “so you were like a tiny, fierce guardian angel kind of?”

He laughs, kissing you back, “I guess so. And you’re my angel.”

You giggle and keep walking with him.

He points to a house slightly bigger than his own, “that’s Buck’s old house. I used to go over there and listen to games on the radio with him after school and on weekends. Now he lives in Stark Tower. He rents out this house, and I think it’s because we both know he’d never be able to sell it. I could live in the Tower, but I like my house now. There are too many memories. And it’d be hard to sneak you into the Tower.” He winks at you.

“Can you not bring guests?”

“We can, it’s just hard to do. There are certain rooms guests can’t go in, and we have to be careful about what we say. It’s just easier to not bring guests. And in your case, I’m just not ready to share you yet.”

You frown a little, “will I ever get to meet the rest of the team?”

He nudges you gently, “of course. I just have to figure out a time when everyone will be there.”

“Okay. I wasn’t trying to pressure you, by the way. I was just asking.”

He kisses the top of your head, “I know, doll. Relax.” You start to walk past an obviously newly renovated school. Everything is shiny and everything on the playground is in mint condition. “This is where I went to school. I went here up to 8th grade, and Bucky showed up my last year. We had seen each other around the neighborhood since we were neighbors, but we actually became friends at school.”

You grin at him, “you know, not many people can say they’ve had the same best friend for 80 years.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you back for that.” He moves his hand and squeezes your ass as you walk.

“Steve, we’re next to a school. What if someone sees?”

He moves you into the alley between the school and another building so you can’t be seen, “no one can see,” he says before leaning down to kiss you hungrily. You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He bites your lip, deepening the kiss while squeezing your ass. You feel a fire igniting in your core. He pulls away to catch his breath, smirking at you, “that’s one thing that never happened to me in a Brooklyn alley.”

You blush and take his hand, leading him back out onto the street, “that was nice.”

“Just nice? I’m wounded.” He puts a hand over his chest, pretending to clutch his heart.

You nudge him, rolling your eyes, “sweetheart, every kiss we share is incredible. Nice doesn’t even begin to cover it. It was phenomenal. It even turned me on a little,” you wink.

He groans, slowing down his pace, “maybe we should go back to my place.”

You frown, glaring at him, “are we done with the tour yet?” “No?” He raises an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Then we’re not going back,” you stick your tongue out at him.

He groans, leading you down the street and pointing to an abandoned factory, “my mom worked there till it got shut down after the war. They made all kinds of stuff to send overseas.”

“I bet your mom fit right in, considering she made you and you went overseas.” You start laughing so hard you have to stop walking, leaning against a wall to compose yourself.

He rolls his eyes, “you think you’re SOOOOOO funny, don’t you?”

“Yes, actually, I do,” you say as you get your shit together. You take his hand and start walking with him again. You walk a few more blocks and Steve stops in front of a small, family-owned diner.

“Wanna grab lunch, babe? We’ve been walking for a while.”

“Okay, sounds good. What history does this place have with you?”

He laughs as he leads you inside, kissing your hand, “I’ll tell you when we sit down.” You sit down in a booth and Steve sits across from you. He takes your hands, kissing the back of each. “Storytime?” You grin at him.

He sighs, looking into your eyes, “you are almost too curious for your own good.” He laughs, “it’s not even a huge story. It’s just that whenever Buck met a girl, he’d find me some random girl and we’d all come here to get milkshakes and stuff. Of course, my ‘date’ was more interested in Bucky and I was just stuck in the corner not saying anything. Bucky tried, though. He’s a good guy. He tried to let me follow him around because everyone thought I was just some stupid shrimp.”

You frown, leaning over the table to kiss him softly, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

He brushes your hair out of your face, shaking his head, “don’t. I have you now. That’s all that matters. It’s so much better being in love than just going out on a double date with my best friend and two girls I don’t know, especially when neither of the girls ever showed me any interest.”

The waitress comes over and Steve takes one of your hands. You order a grilled cheese and tomato soup with a Coke, and he orders French Toast, along with a large chocolate milkshake. The waitress smiles and takes your menus, walking away.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “you got a milkshake?”

“Of course, gotta be cliché and share a shake with my best girl,” he winks at you. “So tell me about your childhood. I know about your brother, but you haven’t mentioned your parents at all. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

You sigh, biting your lip as you squirm a little, “my parents and I aren’t close, to put it lightly. I was born in Philly. I have one brother, and you know how that turned out. My dad abused me and my brother when we were kids. I worked my ass off and got stellar grades and worked two jobs to save money. The day after I graduated high school, I got out of there and moved to New York to go to NYU. I got an apartment and now I’m working on my criminal justice degree. I haven’t heard from my parent since I moved out, and I don’t regret that decision.” You look away, drawing circles on the table.

Steve pulls up your chin, looking into your eyes, “hey, it’s okay. Thank you for trusting me with that information.”

“I figured that you needed to know why I never talk about my family. And why I keep myself busy all the time. I don’t need free time to have to worry about what life would be like if I’d had a functional family. I left and I’m better off.” You’re crying now, and you go quiet as the waitress comes over, setting your drinks on the table before walking away.

Steve stands up, coming around to sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, “shhh you’re okay. I’m here. Just breathe, relax. I’m proud of you for getting out of there. You knew that it wasn’t normal or healthy, so you did the right thing and ran. You’re so brave, you’re my strong girl. I’m so proud of you.” He leans over, kissing the top of your head as he wipes your tears. You look up into his eyes, which are a mix of bluish-grey since he’s upset for you, “Thank you, Steve. I love you.”

He kisses your forehead, “I love you too, (Y/N).” He goes back over to the other side of the booth and sits down, taking a sip of his milkshake. “Mmm babe you gotta try this, it’s so good.” He smiles and slides it over to you.

You grab the extra straw and try it, “wow. That’s really really good.”

The waitress brings over your food and places it in front of each of you.

Steve takes a deep breath, taking a bite of toast before looking into your eyes, “I have a question.”

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